Abandoned hopes of my childhood,
Creep through my soul each day.
What am I to others?
One question haunting me every way.
Will I ever climb the tree of glory,
and make myself proud.
This isn’t what I dreamt of,
Why wasn’t I informed?
Once I reach the tree,
I wonder how the grass will seem.
The height won’t make me tremble,
Nor the blues disturb my dream.
I hope the sky shines bright,
The birds sing for me.
I just wish they never mind,
My quiet company.
-Swara